The meaning doesn't matter
by Akatori
Summary: How and why did Antonio get a hand on that book, Arthur didn't know. But how in the hell was he supposed to live through the day with a Spaniard quoting him almost every single Don Quixote quote in it ? (Written for the 23rd April SpUk event on tumblr. One shot)
So I may or may not have forgotten about the SpUk event until this morning. But maybe it's better like this ? I didn't like my first idea anyway. But now I have to do this... Well, let's not lose time now !

I was inspired by the Don Quixote quotes by the way, although I think I'll only use one of those that were suggested by Spukdays... ANYWAY !

Also: I won't bother with chronology. I think it's not my friend anymore. And sorry if the context is vague, I didn't want to decide (It's not like I had much time anyway).

There's 1.471 words.

*.*.*

Arthur looked at the recipe in the book and an idea came to his mind. Yes, he knew that Antonio recommended him to strictly follow the instructions, but he wanted to put his own touch. The other could say whatever they want, he knew it would taste good. Without noticing himself, he started to hum and sing faintly, a smile on his face. Since Antonio wasn't helping him, he would have to make him admit he could cook something good. More than good, even.

As he started to add some spices, the door opened.

\- "Sing away sorrow, cast away care."

What ? Arthur froze and turned around to see his boyfriend, leaning on the door almost dramatically and holding a book in his hand. A weird book, with a brown, blank cover. The pages looked like they could fall apart at any moment. His brows furrowed in confusion as he glanced back at the Spaniard's face.

\- What ?

At least that explained his thoughts. Kind of.

\- I found a book in your library. It's full of quotes from Don Quixote.

\- Really ? I don't remember having such a book.

\- Maybe you forgot.

Probably. Sometimes some books got lost, even if he tried to organize them. He had too much books to remember them all anyway.

\- I think you used it wrongly, though.

\- Did I ? At least I'm not the one using the wrong spices.

\- I can assure you that I am !

\- As if. Leave the kitchen, or at least let me take over.

He was going to let him take over. But only because he preferred to cook with the brunet rather than leaving him. And because he could try to convince him to let him put his own touch, too.

*.*.*

Fine, there wouldn't be anyone to recognize them, but as they were walking down the streets, Arthur couldn't help but look in every direction, searching for any signs of... of someone they knew ? Someone who would recognize them and tell certain persons that they had been seen strolling around, hand in hand ?

\- You're too much on alert. People will notice you more like this.

A sigh left his lips, but Antonio's hand squeezed his, trying to reassure him. Before letting go. Arthur barely had the time to realize the lack of warmth around his hand that the brunet was speeding up, kneeling down, extending a hand and calling a cat nearby. It immediately went to him with a meow.

\- Sorry, _gatito_ , I don't have anything to eat for you. But you seem to like to be pet.

\- Antonio I...

\- Don't worry, we'll go buy food later. Oh, unless you want to be pet too ?

The Spaniard's smile didn't help at all and the blond felt himself blush.

\- No, that's not what I wanted to say !

\- Then what ?

\- Nothing, let me pet it too.

Just like his boyfriend, Arthur kneeled down and called the cat. It refused to come, rubbing his head against Antonio's hand and legs instead, demanding more caresses. But not from the blond, who had to move closer.

The cat seemed a bit curious and sniffed his hand. Slowly, the Englishman tried to fondle its ears but it suddenly backed away and clawed at him. The brunet beside him fell on the floor, laughing as the cat ran away, scared by all the noises.

\- Stop laughing, idiot.

He only took his book. Why did he even took it with him outside ?!

\- "Those who'll play with cats must expect to be scratched."

\- Why are you doing this again ?

\- "Can we ever have too much of a good thing ?"

\- Is this a good thing ?

\- I think it is. We're having fun and you're less on your guards.

Maybe, but he wouldn't admit it.

\- That's because of the cat.

*.*.*

Why couldn't he put away that book ? Whatever had found its way in Antonio's head, it seemed to be well stuck and it didn't matter what they were doing, the brunet always found a quote to say, whether it suited the situation or not.

\- Do you even know what they all mean ?

\- Do you ? was the reply.

\- Not always.

\- I don't always know too, but it's fun.

Sometimes he couldn't understand his lover… who decided to quote yet another citation, even though he had just declared he couldn't understand everything.

\- "The reason for the unreason with which you treat my reason, so weakens my reason that with reason I complain of your beauty."

When would this day end…

*.*.*

If Arthur had thought that eating would make the other shut up, he was wrong. As long as the Spaniard had that damned book in his hand, a quote would leave his mouth.

\- "The proof of the pudding is in the eating."

\- We're not even eating pudding.

\- So ?

With a sigh, the blond took Antonio's book from his hands, earning a startled cry, and went through the pages. He didn't really read each and every quote, but fell on the one he was looking for. Presenting it to the Spaniard, he quoted:

\- "Think before thou speakest".

*.*.*

\- Antonio, it's your turn.

The only reason they were playing cards, was so the brunet would concentrate on something else than his book (that he snatched from his hands at some point). But no, apparently he still preferred his book over anything, looking up for a quote whenever it was Arthur's turn.

\- "I say patience, and shuffle the cards".

For the second time that day, Arthur took the book.

\- "Murder is out".

\- Are you sure it's used correctly ?

\- I might ask you the same thing.

*.*.*

\- "Abundance, even of good things, prevents them from being valued; and scarcity, even in the case of what is bad, confers a certain value."

\- I simply said "I love you", groaned the Englishman.

The Spaniard only grinned at him and Arthur rolled his eyes. He should be happy that he hadn't pushed him off his lap yet. Because he could. But if he was a comfortable pillow, then Antonio was a nice blanket, so he let him be. For now.

Wait a moment. As he was trying to get back to his reading, the blond realized something and looked back at his boyfriend.

\- Are you saying it's bad when I say it ?

\- No, it's just that I say "I love you" often and you a bit less.

He wasn't sure how to take it, or what the other meant.

\- … Should I say it more often ?

The expression on the Spaniard's face instantly changed, becoming worried, and he put away his book to meet the other's eyes.

\- Uh ? No, of course not ! You only need to say it when you want to !

\- Good, because I don't think I would have liked to be on the edges just because I don't know if I said "I love you" enough.

And the book was back into his hand.

\- "Honesty's the best policy". But you know, I think there's other ways to show me how much you love me.

\- Is there ? Arthur said, perfectly knowing what his boyfriend had in mind.

Both of their books closed at the same time, eyes locked on one another's and lips meeting each other several times, not wanting to stop just yet. Or maybe Antonio's did, when his whole body turned to pick up the book for the hundredth time. Now he was annoyed. Arthur caught his hand and changed their positions.

\- Wait, let me look for another quote !

\- I think you've had enough quotes for today, love.

When a smirk appeared on the brunet's face, he knew what was coming.

\- "Tomorrow will be another day".

\- Have you memorized some of them or what ?

\- No, but I wanted to tell you this one when I could.

The serious look he got nearly worried him.

\- Why ?

\- Because tomorrow, we won't be together but I want you to stay with me for now.

This, however, was unexpected. For a moment, the blond was speechless, only able to look at the man below him. That idiot he loved so much, that he just couldn't let go, even if they both knew how much things would be easier if they did.

\- You ruined the atmosphere, he finally replied in a disappointed tone.

\- Sorry ? offered Antonio, taking him by the collar to pull him into a kiss. I'll repay for it.

\- You better.

Of course he didn't need any repayment. He only wanted the Spaniard by his side, not matter how annoying he could be. He still waited patiently for any time he could visit him, only wishing for them to be able to see, talk, and touch each other, no matter how they saw each other, what they talked about or what kind of touch it was.


End file.
